I think it was Alexander Fleming who said, ‘The root of all creativity lies in psychological damage.’ That’s an aphorism; a nugget of wisdom, although I haven’t yet made my mind up whether there’s any truth in it. I’m inclined to think there is however, for we all know of an awful lot of successful artists, musicians and writers who were daft as brushes, many ended up taking their own lives, among them Sylvia Plath, Ernest Hemmingway, Michael Hutchence, Jean-Michel Frank, Virginia Woolf and Vincent van Gogh.

Now the obvious question is, did their underlying madness somehow equip them for their chosen career or was it that their career drove them nuts? Good question, but I guess we’ll never know the answer.

Another hugely creative individual, who hasn’t yet taken an overdose – and hopefully never will – is Adrian Plass. I’ve met Adrian a number of times and have had frequent conversations with him. He used to be an unqualified Social Worker working with youngsters with behavioural problems. I did a similar job for a year while at university and I must say I enjoyed my time in the youth criminal justice system.  Stressful? Yes it was, but at least I knew it wasn’t going to be a permanent career for me. It was for Adrian, and in 1987 he found himself on long-term sick leave, suffering from a stress related condition. And he would agree that his psychological damage led him to a rich vein of creativity; it was during this time he says he was hanging around the house with nothing much to do and so he wrote The Sacred Diary of Adrian Plass aged 373/4; he has gone on the sell over a million copies of it and authored a further 40+ books. He comes across as an intense man, but very funny; clumsy in that endearing goofy sort of way, but his writings and his observations betray the inner man; thoughtful, insightful, compassionate

As we sat in a Belfast Hotel one day a few years ago he told me a story of a couple he knew; Jayne and Bert. They weren’t long married and lived somewhere just within commuting distance from Jayne’s place of work in London. Bert was a writer and worked from home. After a couple of years Jayne had been travelling daily on the train, always the 07.43 to Paddington. At first she was like the typical London commuter; no eye contact with fellow-travellers, but in time, a slightly younger man than she, always on the same train, attracted her attention. And after a bit more time they exchanged glances, and before long they were chatting. Soon she was looking forward to her daily train journey, until one day it occurred to her that there was a line here that she was in danger of crossing.

There was no way she would risk her marriage, for she was happy, as was Bert, but she was enjoying the attention of another man. What would she do? In conscience she felt there was only one thing she could do, she would discuss it with Bert.

‘What will I do?’

‘Catch a later train dear.’ And she did.

There’s something about human nature that wants what it wants when it wants it. It’s called immediate gratification; ‘If it feels good, do it, regardless of the cost!’ And I’m not about to say it wasn’t like that in my day, for history is littered with accounts of men of greatness trading their honour for a moment’s pleasure.

Nor do I believe that the virtues of our forefathers are old fashioned, past their sell-by date. On the contrary, without them societies collapse, without them we are empty vessels, bereft of substance.

The people who will act as role models for the next generation are business leaders, so called soccer stars, and a motley crew of celebrities. But all the evidence points to the conclusion that the most influential people in the lives of children are the parents. Let’s not sell the children short. Our greatest legacy to them is the timeless virtues of integrity, respect, loyalty, truthfulness, patience, humility and kindness.

 

You can contact Adam online: adam@adamharbinson.com